Venire
by Sartruce
Summary: Ten years, broken friendships, and the defeat of one evil AI later, Yumi is a private investigator, running her agency with Odd in a small city in southern France. She's eking out a living for herself when a call from Ulrich Stern tells her what she'd always dreaded: XANA is back.
1. Chapter 1

_"Growing up is losing some illusions, in order to acquire others."_

_— _Virginia Woolf

* * *

In the dark of the night, under the silvery stream of the full moon, a man and a woman stood side by side. The man clenched his fist, drawing back as if he meant to strike at his companion. She stood there unflinchingly. The wind moved bits of sand around them, and the ocean rippled lazily behind them. "This," he said, shaking strands of ink black hair out of his face, "is the way to do it. No second-guessing yourself, or you'll have them all over you."

"Them?" the woman asked. "Who's them?" She brought a cigarette to her puffy lips.

"Oh, those drifters, you know. In the bar, one minute you're enjoying a soul-burning shot of whiskey and the next, you're flat on your back because you haven't got a notion of how to defend yourself."

She nodded slowly, taking another drag, the smoke drifting into the stars. She didn't believe him, but she knew men like him well. He was trying to impress her. Big talk and big gestures, and maybe she'd be up for a round of fun. "I see," she said.

"I used to be like that, you know," he said. His gaze paused a little too long on her lithe legs and her stomach barely covered by the tank top. "I used to fight."

"Oh," she said.

"Aren't you wondering why I don't anymore?"

"I think you're going to tell me."

"Back at my boarding school, with all the rich kids and shit—"

She gasped. "Behind you!" she shrieked. Her hair flew out in a mass of shining embers and flares, and she pointed. "Look behind you!"

"What?" He turned around, mouth wide open, arrogance fading rapidly. A figure advanced towards them, dark smoke blowing clumsily out of its hair, in little puffs, as if it didn't know how to get out of its owner's head. As it came closer, he could see that the entire face had an eerie blank quality. The mouth was a closed line, and the eyes, those eyes that he'd never thought he'd see again.

"Well?" Lily cried. "Aren't you going to do something?" She swung her own bag at the figure. "Who the fuck are you? Go away!"

The figure advanced, though at this point, he knew it was not a human, rather a spectre. "Leave," he shouted at her roughly. "Go while you can."

The last thing he saw that set of frightening eyes in the soft glow of the moonshine as the woman screamed, over and over again as he fell into silence.

"William!"

At last, XANA had gotten him.

* * *

"I've tasted shit better than this coffee."

Yumi Ishiyama sighed, rubbing her at her forehead. She picked up the newspaper again, in an attempt to block out her surroundings, but Odd Della Robbia was not one to be deterred.

"Did you hear me? Because I'm telling you, your coffee needs some major work."

"I heard you the first time." She glared at him. "And I'm tired, irritable, and sick of your company, so I would advise you to shut up right about now."

"Feisty." He stirred his coffee, and took the newspaper from her.

"Looking at it won't do any good," she said. "The ad's awful, but there's nothing we can do about it now. We've already paid for it."

"And what a waste of five hundred euros it was." He slumped on the used desk they'd picked up at a garage sale, cracking one lazy eye open at her.

There was nothing rational she could say to that. She took another sip of her coffee, secretly agreeing that the coffee she'd made was less than edible. It really hadn't been her fault though. It wasn't her who'd skimped out on her share of the paperwork, forcing the both of them to stay up till two in the morning with shit coffee to finish it. It wasn't her who'd been irresponsible enough to waste their hard-earned savings on two hundred lottery tickets. It wasn't her who'd taken out a useless ad, leaving them to have to work double the time just to pay rent on their house the size of a postage stamp.

So really, it was a certain someone's fault, a certain someone who was this close to getting whacked upside the head.

"This sucks," Odd whined, apparently having gotten tired of hunching on the desk. "I regret growing up."

"Well, I regret starting a business with you, no less a detective agency. So, I guess that makes us even."

"But at least you get someone fun. I get you. All work, no play."

"Just finish your paperwork." She sighed. "I'll make us some more coffee." She pushed her chair back, and took a resentful glance at Odd's cushioned chair. They'd traded off sometime around midnight, since she'd complained about having to take the lamp side of the table.

"No sugar this time!" Odd called as she walked to the tiny kitchen. "I'm looking to wake up, not death by sugar."

Yumi rolled her eyes. On long nights like these, it was always best to ignore him.

* * *

The first rays of sunlight found them sprawled across the desk, Odd slumped in an upside-down U shape, and Yumi with her knees on the floor and arms crossed on the edges of the desk. They often found themselves in strange positions, what with Odd being a hog for space and the late hours they had to keep. If they weren't doing paperwork, one could usually find them sneaking about the slums of Marseille. Life as private investigators didn't always prove to be the most interesting, but at least Yumi could be secure in the knowledge that she knew the dumpsters and back alleys of the city as well as any lowlife criminal worth his salt.

She looked around the room, it being a habit she'd acquired in her teenage, XANA years, and a habit she'd continued in her later, post-university years. It was as sparse as always, filled with a solitary couch, the desk she and Odd were currently occupying, and a single laptop on said couch.

The curtains were slightly peeked open in front of them, but she vaguely remembered either her or Odd talking about the lack of natural light in the living room, so she brushed it off and pushed the curtains open, kicking Odd's shin in the progress. She was good at multitasking.

"Ow!" Odd yelped. He rubbed his eyes and frowned. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get up." Yumi walked over to the other window and pushed the curtains wide open.

"We don't..." He yawned. "We don't have a case today, do we?"

"As a matter of fact, we do have a case today. Second drawer on your left."

He rummaged through their desk sleepily, following her instructions. "Oh. Marsh and Kintz. I thought we were done with them."

"You might be thinking of Mme Marchez and her missing cat."

He moaned. "Maybe, but it's really too early to be thinking about cases right now."

"More coffee?" she asked.

"No!" He shot up and brushed imaginary dust off dirty hair. "I'll go shower and get dressed and, um, do stuff that civilised people do. Now that I'm awake enough to really taste your coffee..." He sent her a dark glare before heading off towards the bathroom.

She set to work on making breakfast. Their kitchen, like their living room, looked as empty as it had been the day they'd signed the down payment and moved their meager suitcases in. The drawers held exactly one set of utensils each, and the cabinets held two jars of peanut butter, a loaf of bread, ground coffee, and sugar. In the fridge, one could find a carton of milk and a carton of eggs. There were a couple old pots and plates stacked on the stove, and a wooden spoon and a coffee maker lay beside them on the white countertop.

She set to work frying the eggs, noting that they'd have to buy more today. She slathered a generous helping of peanut butter on four slices of bread and poured two cups of milk. Not long after, Odd wandered in, sniffing at the air.

"Your cooking is a lot better than your coffee, I have to admit."

"My coffee isn't always so bad. I used too much water by accident, that's all." She grabbed the wooden spoon and made to smack him, but he jumped out of the way.

"You wound me so, Yumi-chan!"

"Stop insulting my coffee." She rolled her eyes at his antics.

"But seriously, you used too much water, and you thought the solution was to add sugar? You're in France. You just can't do that."

"I'm Japanese!"

"But you live in France. And you have for the past million years. _And_ you live with an Italian."

"An Italian who can't cook to save his life."

Odd took the glasses of milk from her as she brought their plates to the table. "At least...the milk's not mouldy."

She didn't reply, taking a gulp of her own milk. They spent the rest of their breakfast in silence. It wasn't until they were both out the door on their walk to the supermarket, taking in the fresh morning air, that she spoke. "So, since you've appeared to have forgotten, Monsieur Sanchez wants to know how what, if anything, his mistress is hiding. His mistress," she clarified, "being Mme Kintz."

"Oh, is this the cheating English couple?"

"Well, I wouldn't have put it in those terms, but yes, this is."

"Wait," he said, a glimmer of recognition sparking in his eyes. "This is the woman we followed to the coffee shop, isn't it? And we saw her meeting with that man. The pictures! That's it."

"Yes, the pictures. And I'm going to talk to her today, while you dig around her friends."

Odd sighed."How boring. When we first started, I thought we were going to solve murder mysteries! But no, we're tracking down some lady's whereabouts. She's probably not even the one hiding something. How much do you wanna bet that he's hiding something?"

"You're probably right," she said. "But we're not being paid to investigate him."

"Ah, money sweet money."

"And if you dare buy a lottery ticket ever again, I'm calling your sisters and telling them where you hid their old dolls."

"You wouldn't dare!"

She turned to him with a glint in her eye, something she'd found she'd developed after the post-uni independence had set in. "Oh, I would." She grinned while he pouted.

And so they went down the street, squabbling as any regular pair of friends might do, without a clue as to exactly what had happened at 10:21 PM last night under the full Normandy moon.

* * *

edited and replaced April 4, 2013

A/N: I've added a bit more, hopefully it flows more smoothly, and is a better reflection of my writing. I'd like to think I've progressed a bit in the last few months. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

_"I know enough of the world now to have almost lost the capacity of being much surprised by anything."_

_— _Charles Dickens, _David Copperfield_

* * *

As Odd termed it, Yumi was the diplomatic one. She was the one the teachers had always liked, he argued, and she had always been better at phrasing things. And at times, when Odd asked a woman if she were pregnant or just carrying a bit of doughnut fat or told a man that his bald head looked rather like an egg, she couldn't help but agree. Unfortunately, since this was an agreed-upon truth between them, and because in the realm of private detective-ing, there was a lot less action and a lot more small talk than one would've thought, Yumi found herself nervously adjusting the hem of her crisply ironed shirt in front of one Mme Kintz' house.

She mentally reviewed the facts in her head again. Five weeks ago, Sanchez had come to them with an offer of five thousand euros and a ring. The ring, he said, had not been given by him. In fact, he'd never seen it in his life, and he suspected that it might be a lover of hers, and he wanted Yumi and Odd to investigate his girlfriend's personal life. Never the one to pass up sorely-needed money, they'd agreed, with the condition that half the sum be paid the same day and the second half paid after the case had been completed.

Yumi's job was simple. Talk to Kintz, get as much out of her as she could, all the while inspecting the apartment for any signs of adultery. Odd's job was even simpler, in her not-so-humble opinion. Organise all their previous information in one package to be sent to Sanchez, so that when she got back from this trip, it would be easy to send it all as soon as possible. With the rent payment to their landlord approaching rapidly, it would be nice to have the money sooner than later.

She knocked again, fervently hoping that Mme Kintz was indeed home. A minute later and her waiting paid off, when a woman with large undereye circles and messy blonde hair in a bun cracked open the door. "Hello?" she said, yawning. "Can I help you?"

"Hello," Yumi answered. "I'm looking for Maria Kintz. May I talk to her?"

"I'm Maria Kintz. I don't recall talking to anybody...are you a saleswoman? I'm not interested." The woman spoke with a strong Welsh accent, and Yumi had to wonder if it'd be worth her while switching into English. She decided against it, since of all the classes at Kadic, English had decidedly been her least favourite.

"Oh, no, not a saleswoman. I'm Yumi Ishiyama." Yumi smiled and pulled out a business card. "I wasn't sure if I needed to call before dropping in, but I've been looking for a real estate agent." It was a flimsy excuse at best, but Mme Kintz only pursed her lips and nodded.

"Come on in then. I'm afraid I'm not looking my best, but I'd be happy to help you."

The apartment was small yet tastefully decorated. Mme Kintz led Yumi through the mudroom to a hallway, abruptly making a turn to the right. "My living room's quite a mess, so why don't we sit in the kitchen?"

"Sounds great," Yumi said.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

"That'd be lovely." As the blonde started boiling the water, Yumi took it as her chance to garner what information she could. The fridge had a few slips of paper on it, and envelopes of all sizes were gathered in a large pile on the table. At that moment though, the other woman turned around and sat down across from Yumi.

"While the tea's boiling, we can get started. Are you thinking of buying or selling?"

"Uh, selling," Yumi said. "I want to sell my apartment. To be honest, this is my first time selling, so I'm a little nervous." She put on a weak smile for effect.

"The housing market's going through a shortage at the moment, and I'll be there with you every step of the way." Mme Kintz got up again. "The tea's ready." She got two porcelain tea cups and handed Yumi one.

Yumi took a sip. "Thank you."

"Now let's talk about your apartment. Where is it?"

"Les Halles."

"How many rooms?"

"Four. A bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living room."

"Ah, and do you happen to have any pictures on you?"

For that, Yumi had to give grudging credit to Odd. He'd urged her to take pictures after they got back from the supermarket. 'Your story's unbelieveable enough as it is now, Yumi. Don't make it worse on yourself!' had been his words.

She took her camera out of her pocket-it was their leisure camera; the work camera had too many strange photos of garbage bags and their contents, back alleys, and random bedrooms for it to be anything but incriminating to their line of work-and handed it to the blonde. "I took some pictures before I left." She paused. "If you don't mind, Mme Kintz, may I use the bathroom? I'm afraid I've drunk all your tea."

The woman's smile wavered, and Yumi could've sworn that her face lost a bit of its forced lightness, but she only waved Yumi to the hallway. "It's the second door on your left."

And this was what separated the men from the boys. It didn't take a genius to make up a fake alibi to get yourself in someone's house. People were all too willing to believe shit you gave out. However, it did take a certain skill to sneak around in someone's house without getting caught.

Yumi spotted the door Mme Kintz had been talking about and took a quick peak in. If there was anything to suggest that the woman was cheating on her boyfriend, well, it wasn't going to be in the bathroom. She moved down the hallway into the living room. At least she hadn't been lying about that. The living room was indeed a mess, clothes strewn all over the leather couches, water spilt on the wooden coffee table. A few necklaces and papers lay scattered on the floor right at her feet.

Yumi bent down, inspecting the necklaces and papers for any clues at all, but the cursory search turned up nothing. She moved over to the side tables, only to sigh in disappointment when the drawers turned up nothing of interest-common items were neatly arranged: spare change, a flashlight, a phone book. Yumi turned around and headed back to the bathroom when she suspected that the other woman would come looking for her. And as she'd had to remind potential clients many times, she and Odd did not conduct business on the less legal side of law. Too many close run-ins with XANA had left her with an appreciation for the mundane.

She flushed the toilet and let the water run for a minute or so and rushed back out to join the woman.

"I have to go now," Yumi said.

"Would you like to arrange a meeting another time?" Mme Kintz asked, frowning. "We haven't had much time to discuss your apartment and the selling price."

Real estate agents. As Odd would've said, they were the sharks of the modern world. "I'll call you with a time that's convenient to me," Yumi said. "Thank you for your help." She grabbed her phone out of the clearly confused woman's hand and hightailed her way out of there.

* * *

"A messy living room?" Odd mused. "Do all cheating women have messy living rooms?"

"Depends," Yumi said wryly. "Do all cheating men hire private investigators to do their dirty work for them?"

"Good question." Odd cocked his head. "I'll have to get back to you on that."

"Yeah, so did you gather all our intel and organise it?"

"In fact, I did. And what's more, I did it all before my afternoon snack! Jamie's back." Odd sighed happily. Jamie was the head baker at the patisserie Odd frequented.

"I have to finish the report for my visit with Mme Kintz, and we can bring the folder over to Sanchez."

"Yes, ma'am!" Odd mock-saluted and went back to scribbling in his notebook.

He didn't offer to help, however, which left her with the task of writing the report on her own. Which, most of the time, was not a big deal at all. Odd Della Robbia's help, which often included food on the floor or food on the walls or if worse came to worse, food on the door, was not always appreciated or wanted.

But when it came to four hours later, and she was still attempting to document her thoughts in the most professional way possible, and Odd was creating an extraordinary distraction in the form of a paper airplane, she couldn't but snap at him. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Honestly? No." He leapt over the back of the cough and sank into its cushions. "Though, I must say, this couch was one of our better investments."

"Unlike your cooking lessons," she muttered.

"What's that?" Odd said. "Is someone jealous of my superior cooking?"

"Someone has been working on a report for four hours. Because someone else won't find some work to do."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that that was some spectacularly done passive aggressiveness."

"But since you do you know better," she said sweetly, "you're going to grab a sandwich for me from the bakery since I've been working on this report all day."

"Fine, fine!" He held up his hands in defeat. "Because I just happen to adore you and your friendship so much, I suppose I can make the harrowing trip down to the bakery. I guess I can, even though I might get mugged or beaten or kidnapped..."

"Just go."

He slipped on a light purple jacket and stretched his hands out behind his head. "Or I might get molested! All because I was threatened into going to the bakery."

"Would you rather write this report?"

"All right, all right, I'm going!" He shoved his feet inside dirty tennis shoes that had seen more than their fair share of muddy cigarettes and had mushed too many worms on rainy mornings to count and rushed out the door. His speed was a throwback to their teenage days, or as Yumi termed them, their Golden Days. She separated almost everything her life Pre Lyoko, During Lyoko, and Post Lyoko, but there had been that sliver of time when she'd only been absorbed only in the exhilaration Lyoko had brought her.

She glanced at the clock and back down to the report, of which she still had to describe Mme Kintz' exact reaction to her leaving. But as it was, it stopped her from thinking of the first few weeks of Post Lyoko, and it was distraction enough.

Yumi was fully engrossed in a fascinating description of Mme Kintz' bathroom when her cell phone rang. Odd, predictable as always, was still out and about on the streets of Marseille even though he should've been back fifteen minutes ago. She reached for the phone with one hand, the other still paused a coin's width above the space bar. Without thinking, she answered, not prepared at all for that voice she hadn't heard in so many years, tucked firmly in the lifetime ago that was During Lyoko.

"Ulrich?"

* * *

-edited April 13, 2013. I hope it reads a bit better and does a better job of setting the background beyond Odd and Yumi. As a note, we are moving out of Marseille, but I thought it'd be best to set a background for the two of them anyway, so we can move on and grow from here! Comments much adored.


	3. Chapter 3

Placeholder for the third chapter-I had another chapter up here, but I'm making some slight changes that will make this chapter cease to make sense so into the bin it goes! As a note though, I've finally gotten out of the rut I've been in for ages.


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